In Alice Troughton’s “The Lesson,” a strapping and handsome young man named Liam Sommers (Daryl McCormack, “Peaky Blinders”) – (even his name sounds young), an aspiring writer, moves in with the wealthy family of a famous, older and mercurial fellow writer named J.M. Sinclair (Richard E. Grant). Liam has been hired to tutor Sinclair’s son Bertie (a suitably spongy Stephen McMillan), in order to get him into Oxford to study English (and perhaps follow in his father’s literary footsteps?).

Bertie has a clump of hair on his head that looks like it might talk to him in his sleep. Liam was hired by Sinclair’s beautiful, art dealer wife Helene (Julie Delpy), who has Liam sign multiple contracts, including a non-disclosure agreement. Liam carries a journal in which he has written the good part of a novel. Sinclair is finishing up his latest bestseller. Avid aquanaut Liam is forbidden to swim in the lake just outside the back door on the Sinclair manor house, where beavers disport and where Bertie’s older bother Felix drowned himself (or so we’re told). Liam, who rolls his own cigarettes and has perfect recall – a bit of plot that I did not buy – lives monk-like in the guest house. The Sinclairs live like they were to the manor born. Liam and Bertie embark upon a voyage into the history of poetry, fiction and theater through the ages. Bertie and Liam become confidants, friends and perhaps more.

But what does Liam, who like McCormack, is a person of color and has an Irish accent, really want? He seems to connect with all three Sinclairs. Bertie has an obvious crush on him. Helene allows him to spy on her and her husband having sex. Sinclair obviously sees this younger, would-be writer as a rival and wants to challenge him to a writing contest, if not a wrestling match. If “The Lesson” reminds you of Pier Paolo Pasolini’s “Teorema,” a 1968 study of a family in heat after the arrival of a handsome stranger, you are not alone. In Pasolini’s film an impossibly young Terence Stamp plays the male invader and Italian film goddess Silvana Mangano (“Bitter Rice”) the sexy mother-wife.

Written by Alex MacKieth, whose only previous credit is a short named “Exit Eve,” “The Lesson” is a film about writing and writers that almost never mentions other writers. Liam has a Hemingway poster in his room. But we hear more about famous musicians such as Rachmaninoff and Beethoven. Sinclair goes on about a rhododendron. “You’re a proofreader,” Sinclair spits at Liam. “Have you considered teaching?” he adds.

The jaunty and ironic strings on the soundtrack come courtesy of Isobel Waller-Bridge, the sister of Phoebe Waller-Bridge. In an interview Sinclair tells his audience that “the best (writers) steal,” echoing an unattributed T. S. Eliot. Is this MacKeith’s way of acknowledging his debt to Pasolini? The Sinclair house is full of art. One piece is an evocation of the rape of the nymph Daphne by the god Apollo. The art is meant to be a manifestation of the minds of the Sinclairs. What are we to make of a glimpse of a 1950s Diana Dors film noir? Am I expected to remember that “The Lesson” begins with a “present-day” Liam being interviewed about his hit, debut novel and that the rest is backstory? Is Liam’s book the story of the Sinclairs? Then, what is the film? The great cast doesn’t get much of a payoff. Nor do we. In “The Lesson” only the butler (a devilish Crispin Letts) understands the trick ending. Or cares.

(“The Lesson” contains profanity and sexually suggestive material)

Rated R. At the Coolidge Corner, AMC Boston Common and suburban theaters. Grade: B-